


Lessons Learned

by ladydragon76



Series: Honorable Hostage [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Commission fic, Fanfiction, M/M, Rating: PG-13, character: bluestreak, character: starscream, commissions, genre: drama, genre: humor, series: honorable hostage, verse: g1, verse: idw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 17:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1235083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> They’ve only got two weeks, and their work is totally cut out for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons Learned

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** G1/IDW  
>  **Series:** Honorable Hostage  
>  **Rating:** PG-13  
>  **Characters:** Bluestreak, Starscream, Autobot Ensemble  
>  **Warnings:** Starscream on a rant, Bluestreak being a hardaft.  
>  **Notes:** Commissioned by Boots, who wanted to see some of the scenes that occurred while Starscream and Bluestreak were trying to educate the ‘Bots.

“What did you say to me?” Starscream hissed.

Bluestreak sighed. Primus, couldn’t they even get in the fragging door?

“I said-”

“Something you better slagging not repeat,” Bluestreak said, cutting Gears off. “Not unless you want me to throw your aft in the brig to rust, and I will too. I’m so slagged off by how you guys all treated TC, you’re lucky we’re even willing to try and help you.”

“You’re taking his side in this? He's a Decepticon, and they can't be trusted! Don't you remember all they did? All _he_ did? He’s _Starscream_!”

“I’m aware of that,” Bluestreak replied. “I’ve been in his berth. Now knock it off, or I really will put you in the brig.”

Gears' optics got wider and wider, then narrowed to furious slits. “You got no authority to put me in the brig!”

“No, Gears, but I do,” Prime said as he walked up to them. “We’ve made horrible mistakes, and now we should show nothing but gratitude to Bluestreak and Starscream for their willingness to help educate us.”

Bluestreak smiled brightly at Prime, ignoring the wry way Starscream’s mouth twisted. “Thanks, Prime! And about that whole educating thing, I was thinking on the walk back here, and I think we should have, like, a class or something. That way Starscream and I can get everyone together at once, and answer all the questions, and then _everyone_ will be on the same page, and we won’t have any more of this nonsense about mechs not knowing how they’re supposed to act. What do you think?”

“Set it up however you both wish. You have my full support, and those that must remain on monitors can listen i- Why are you shaking your head?” Prime asked.

“Everyone,” Bluestreak said with a decisive nod.

“I agree,” Starscream added, looking and sounding smug.

“Pff! Right. So the ‘Cons can come waltzing in while we’re all busy. Great plan there.”

Bluestreak scowled. “You’ll be sitting in the front row.” He looked back up at Prime, and said, “We aren’t going to be attacked, and that’s the whole point. _Everyone_.” He glanced at Starscream. “Tomorrow?”

“Today.” Starscream gave Prime a sweet smile. “In fact, I think one hour should be all Bluestreak and I need to prepare our lecture.”

Prime floundered for a moment, but then nodded. “One hour. The common room? It’s really the only place large enough for everyone to assemble.”

“Common room works. Thanks!” Bluestreak chirped, then made to turn, but he saw Prime’s hand come out and stop Starscream from following, so he turned back.

“Could we perhaps make it an hour and a half?” Prime asked. His face above the mask took on a slight pinkish glow. “If you are willing, Starscream, I’d like to talk to you alone first. My own… errors were… um…”

Bluestreak smirked right along with Starscream. “Go for it, Star. Gears here can help me get the common room set up and spread the word.” He saw how Gears opened his mouth to protest, but Prime gave him a hard stare, and he backed down. It was graceless, and all Gears did was bitch the whole way, but he didn’t argue any more.

~ | ~

In Prime’s quarters, Starscream watched the big mech fidget and pace for a while before smirking, and asking, “Are you planning to waste the entire ninety minutes?”

“No. No, I’m sorry. It’s just that…” Prime heaved a sigh, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I made such a fool of myself, and I know I hurt Thundercracker, not physically, but deeply, and I regret it so much.” Pleading blue optics opened to beg Starscream for a thousand different things, some of which he could not give. Like Thundercracker’s forgiveness.

“Ask, Prime,” Starscream said, relaxing back against the sofa and gesturing for Prime to sit with him. “Be blunt, and just ask. I’d prefer graceless honesty than further confusion.”

Face hot pink, Prime sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa, hands clasped together between his knees and shoulders hunched.

Starscream shook his helm. “I’m not going to pretend that I’m not angry. You made _Thundercracker_ cry. I don’t remember that happening before. Ever.”

Prime looked over at him, and Starscream didn’t think he’d ever seen a more hangdog, pathetic expression on a mech. “Which is why I wanted to speak with you. It was foolish to believe that Thundercracker could not enjoy interfacing. It all felt so awkward and forced, and… please don’t think I’m trying to excuse myself because I’m not, but…” He sighed and scrubbed at his face. “I was trying to take my duty seriously, and it made no sense, but instead of shoving aside my embarrassment and asking someone else, asking Thundercracker, I… did what I did. To my great regret.”

“Are you wondering if he’ll ever forgive you?” Starscream asked.

“No, well yes, but I have to earn that.” Prime cycled his vents and straightened, facing Starscream with determination. “I don’t expect Thundercracker to forgive me, or ever desire me, but just in case he ever does, I don’t want to bungle it again. Is there anything, should he ever want to in the future, that I should keep in mind when interfacing with a Seeker?”

Starscream stared for a moment, then laughed. He watched as Prime’s face flamed again, pushing toward an unattractive magenta. He snickered and hooted, and couldn’t wait to tell Thundercracker. “What do you think? That we’re some species apart?” He shook his helm and giggled, thoroughly enjoying Prime discomfited expression and posture. It would do the mech some good to be laughed at. He wasn’t likely to make the same mistake again, but Starscream was absolutely going to grind the message home.

“We’re like everyone else. At least when it comes to interfacing.” Starscream leaned forward to waggle his wings. “Everyone goes right for the wings though. Don’t. Sure it’s nice once we’re aroused, and there are all kinds of wonderful things hands can do to send our flight sensors spinning, but focus elsewhere first. Go for the spots you would on a grounder.”

“Seekers lack tires.”

Starscream blinked, and thought of Bluestreak. “Tires?” His optics dropped to the tires on the sides of Prime’s legs.

“Well… Kind of.” Prime shifted uncomfortably, legs tucking off to the side and making Starscream laugh again.

Helm shaking almost helplessly, Starscream said, “You might be hopeless. Are you always this shy about interfacing? Is it utterly impossible for you to speak frankly about it?”

“I’m not… It’s not really something I-”

“Maybe until you can, you shouldn’t be doing it. If you can't have a simple conversation with the mech you intend to ‘face, then you likely aren’t ready to be ‘facing him.”

Prime blinked, optics bright and blue, and so incredibly, innocently surprised, that Starscream didn’t feel like laughing any more.

“Seekers are as different from one another as any other mech. I do know Thundercracker’s hotspots, but I’m not going to tell you them,” Starscream stated. “If you want to know what Thundercracker enjoys in the berth, then you need ask him _when_ you’re comfortable doing so.

“Interfacing between the hosting leader and the Hostage isn’t required anyway, it’s just one way of helping develop an emotional bond.” Starscream flicked a hand off to the side dismissively. “Be his friend first, and _if_ you both want to ‘face each other, I’m sure it will be better.” He narrowed his optics. “However, if he does allow you a second chance, and you fail him so badly that he comes home to me crying again, I’ll be certain that you’re never able to interface with anyone _ever_ again.” He gave Prime his sweetest, most toxic smile. “Understood?”

It was surprising nothing rattled with as vigorously as Prime nodded.

~ | ~

Bluestreak surveyed the neat rows of tables and chairs, all full of Autobots, every last one of them, and smiled. Starscream stood beside him, a smaller table with a bunch of datapads on it in front of him.

“Ok, so hi!” Bluestreak greeted, beaming around at everyone. Some looked curious, some looked bored, and a few looked outright mutinous, but Prime was at the back of the room where he could see everyone, and they’d all been ordered to listen and learn. At least Prime was taking it seriously. So was Ratchet. He even had a datapad for notes.

“Thank you all for coming.”

“We had no choice,” Gears grumbled.

Bluestreak met his optics and kept smiling. “But thanks just the same, because this is all really important. You guys treated Thundercracker like slag, and me and Starscream here are gonna make sure that when he comes back, he feels as welcome as I do in New Kaon.”

“Hey, Prime!” Cliffjumper shouted, twisting to look back at him. “Are we sure they didn’t brainwash him? He sounds brainwashed.”

Bluestreak casually pulled a small gun from his subspace and shot a paintball right at Cliffjumper’s helm. There was a satisfying _thwock!_ , and a yelp. Tracks flinched away from the neon green splatter. “I also want to thank you all for shutting the slag up and listening.

“No, I’m not fragging brainwashed. But hey, thanks for the faith in me.” Bluestreak snorted, pushing down the irritation. “And really, you guys want to be worse than the ‘Cons? Ok. Screw the whole deal, but I’m still going back to New Kaon to live. I like my apartment, and my berth, and how everyone wants to spent time with me.”

Prime stood. “We apologize, Bluestreak. Please continue.” His voice took on a hard edge. “We will _all_ listen attentively, and respectfully signal if there is a question.”

Bluestreak took a moment, catching the amused twitch of Starscream’s wings from the corner of his optic. “Ok, great, because I will totally be shooting paintballs at those who don’t.” He cycled his vents, and said, “Let’s get this back on track. To start, I’m going to let Starscream tell you what Megatron taught the Decepticons.”

Starscream tipped his helm in a nod at Bluestreak, then stepped from behind the table. “You should all be ashamed of yourselves. The Decepticons have embraced peace, we’re building, recovering our lost cultures, beginning new ones, and have given our Hostage all his due respect for his bravery and dedication to the treaty.

“ _You_ sit here before me, sneering, doubting the word of one of your own, smugly patting yourselves on your backs for _collaring_ , hurting, insulting, and abusing the mech sent to you as Hostage. There was no honor in your behavior, and if you doubt that truth, know that _only_ Bluestreak’s plea to Megatron to allow us to teach you better has averted a return to war.”

Optics around the room widened, and faces pale enough to do so pinked up in humiliation and anger. Bluestreak fiddled with his paintball gun, knowing the threat was petty, but it’d felt good to shoot Cliffjumper, and he’d do it again if he needed to. Nothing Starscream said was untrue, and it made him angry to think that war could return due to stubborn Autobots unwilling to bend where Decepticons already had.

Starscream listed out the rules, describing exactly what the Decepticons had done to follow them. There was no place that Bluestreak was restricted from going. He was a capable warrior, and intelligent as well. If he hurt himself playing in an engine room, then they would repair him, mock him for it, and if he chose to do it again, then it was on his own head. He had his own quarters, a fully appointed apartment, not just a berthroom.

Bluestreak did interrupt there to say that none of the Autobots except officers had their own quarters yet, but he also noted that he felt they should be working toward that end. They had peace now, why wouldn’t mechs want _homes_ instead of military barracks?

The history of the Honorable Hostage was then explained, Starscream quoting directly from a number of texts, and explaining as patiently as any academy professor why Megatron interpreted this or that nuance the way he did. He spoke of the differences, and reminded them all that they were _not_ trying to reclaim the old world, and if something needed to be adjusted for the new Hostages, then it should be. Peace and the happiness of the Hostages should trump tradition.

By the end of the lecture, Bluestreak saw far more interested faces than doubters, though there were a few mechs he knew would be harder to drag onboard than others.

“Does anyone have any questions?” Bluestreak asked as Starscream set down his last datapad.

“I do!” Sideswipe grinned as he stood. “Did you really frag Megatron?”

“Oh yeah. It was hot too. Plan to do it again.” Bluestreak reached out to poke Starscream in the wing. “Him too. And Skywarp. And the Stunticons. They were fun, I was dead once they were done with me.” He snickered at the scandalized looks. “What? I meant it when I said _everyone_ wants to spend time with me. It’s not all ‘facing, and it’s not like I _have_ to do it. I want to, and it’s fun. But sometimes we just race, or go shooting, or play video games, or sit around with energon and talk about all kinds of stuff.”

“But they’re Decepticons,” Tracks sniffed.

“Yeah. And nicer than you in most cases,” Bluestreak shot back, unwilling to give quarter or play nice. “Did you ever sit and just have a cube with TC to get to know him? Do you know what he likes to do? Do you know any of his hobbies? Have even a single one of you made him a gift? Because I got gifts. Vortex made me this sculpture that’s fragging gorgeous, and he made it just for _me_. To try to be nice.”

“Are there any serious questions?” Starscream asked. “Is there anything anyone doesn’t understand in how you are to treat and respect your Hostage when he returns?”

Rung stood up. “Is he truly willing to return?”

Starscream shrugged. “I’m not convinced I should let him. The next days will tell us. Consider me your test, and Bluestreak your professor. You will all be treating me as you should have been, and had damn well better treat Thundercracker if I allow him to come back. And save your apologies. You can speak them to his face. I don't want to hear them.”

Bluestreak let his optics sweep over everyone, and nodded. He didn’t think anyone else was going to speak up. “Ok, so thanks again. It’s getting late, and I know I’m hungry, so why don’t we all get some energon and just socialize a bit?” He smiled, glanced at Starscream, then back out to the Autobots. The smile slid into a smirk.

“So who wants to properly welcome our Hostage?”

A large enough number of mechs scrambled for the energon, that Bluestreak couldn’t help feel a bit of hope.

**Author's Note:**

> **([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) )**


End file.
